Substitute
by orangeturquoise
Summary: Do you remember the newborn the Volturi killed after the battle in Eclipse? If she hadn't met her fate like that, maybe the story could have commenced like this...
1. Prologue

_**Substitute**_

Prologue:

We were running. _I_ was running; so inconceivably fast that I had to look down several times to convince myself it was true, because I couldn't even feel the ground beneath my feet. It was good, though. It was divine, indescribable to be out again, to feel the fresh air on my skin again, proving to me that it still existed. Anything was better than that dark little pit, that hell-hole she had locked us up in. and most of all that delicious scent – sweet, savourable, promising – it soothed our minds as much as it fired us up. The first had a chance to get a bite before _her_, even though that was highly idiotic. She would kill anyone who dared to contradict or disobey her. She wanted her revenge. I could see it emanating from her, shrill and blinding and devouring ugly, yet the call of such sweet blood is irresistible. Plus we were starved, absolutely, completely and utterly starved, having been fed only as much as it took to keep us strong enough to fight and hungry enough to be motivated. _She_ was a clever beast.

I don't recall the battle very clearly. Everything was blurred by blood thirst and overpowering instinct. I know we were met with at least equal force, partly _our kind_, partly alive. They were human, but not by shape. They appeared as huge, furry animal-likes. Shape shifters. They gave off comfortable amounts of body heat but smelled revolting. I bit one, maybe two – or was the same one? – to keep them from severing my head from my shoulders. The taste in my mouth made me retch and long for the chance to still my thirst even more. Where was the source of the sweet scent? The burning in my throat spread to my chest, into my stomach and to my head, spread and burned until I was all filled up by it, until there was not a single fiber of my body that wasn't in flames and that wasn't longing for _blood_.

_She_ wasn't fighting with us. She had probably run off to find the source of the unbearable temptation. The small part of my brain that wasn't on stand-by in order to make way for my instincts wished _she_ wouldn't get her revenge today or any day. That tiny section realized what an evil psychopath she was and hoped _she_ would just be erased from the face of the earth. That part of my active consciousness was also shocked and repulsed at what I was doing right now, but it was too insignificant to matter. I jumped, I hit, kicked, scratched, bit, lunged, attacked wherever someone was coming near me, willing them all to stay clear off me, not caring whether side they were on, if they had been one of the many nameless faces that had been sharing my prison with me under the sadistic clutches of _her_.

_Victoria. _

Gradually it got quieter, less dense, as body after body was ripped apart, scattering its remains across the grass. Finally no one attacked me anymore. It hurt. _I_ hurt miserably. But that still was nothing against the overpowering thirst. Exhausted, both mentally and physically, I let myself drop to the ground. I didn't care which side won, never had. In case it wasn't `mine´ I just wished they would grant me the mercy of finishing me off quickly. Anything to stop it all: the agony, the thirst, the disgust, the misery. I would give in, no matter what, as long as it would finally be over. I heard the shuffle of feet next to me, but felt too I-don't-even-know-how-to-describe-it to open my eyes, figuring that it was completely irrelevant whether I died blind or seeing. The shuffling of feet was replaced by muffled voices. I had no idea what they were saying, although I could hear perfectly well. The words just refused to make sense in my aching head.

I felt a light tugging. "Make it quick." I murmured, just wanting it to be over. Every moment seemed to stretch out eternally.  
"Was it this one here?" someone asked. "That's a whole lot of nasty bites." Another remarked. Were they talking about me? Not that I cared anymore.  
"Yes, that's the one I meant."  
"Fought merely defensively you say?"  
"That could indicate that she …"  
"You want to take her in, don't you?"  
"It would be such a horrible waste."  
"Of course."  
"How old might she have been when …?"  
"Around sixteen I'd say."  
"The poor thing."  
"Why isn't she moving?"  
"I don't know."

I was getting annoyed. What was taking them so long? Just get it over and done with.

"Maybe you should try to wake her."  
"Where are Alice and Jasper?"  
"Maybe she gave in. She doesn't want to bear this existence."  
"Understandable."  
"If that's the case I want to hear it from her directly."  
"Why?"  
"Because everyone deserves a chance. She should know all the possible options."  
"Good luck with that if she won't even open her eyes, let alone acknowledge the fact we're standing here and discuss her further destiny."

Enough. I'd had enough of this pointless talk. The voices were cluttered all over my mind. My head was going to burst if this went any further. I jerked my eyes open, intending to glare, but was blinded by the bright disarray of colors exploding all over my field of vision. They were standing right above me, at least three, I really couldn't tell. The light was too blinding. Green, grey, orange, yellow, silver; confusion, respect, trust; most outstanding the shimmering gold and the deep, rich red that meant true love. The faces belonging to these emotions faded to the background before the intensity of the feelings that bound them together.

"Is it normal for a vampire to look that sick, Carlisle?" one of the ominous voices asked another, who in turn addressed me: "Hello? Can you hear me?"  
Why were they playing with me like that? I just wanted it all to end.  
"Just do it already!" I hissed, willing my eyes to focus on the scene before me.  
"Do what, girl?" one voice, not unkindly, said.  
"Kill me … just kill me." I weakly begged. No response came, but when my eyes could finally focus again I was met with nothing but a sympathetic and compassionate look out of the most intense golden eyes.  
"It does not have to be like this. There are ways to live. We could show you how."  
"What do you mean?" I forced out. My tattered brain couldn't make sense of this, but something in these golden eyes gave me hope.  
"It's not necessary to drink human blood. It's all a matter of training. You could lead an almost normal life among humans." The voice said, "Come live with us and we can show you how. We can help you." It beckoned.  
"Live with you…" I weakly echoed. Everything the voice promised sounded too good to be true. Too good to be possible even. Live amongst humans. I thought of my poor mother. "Who are you?" I croaked.  
"My name is Carlisle Cullen. This is my wife Esme."  
"And why would you offer this to me? I just fought you and your family." I said, sitting up. The brightly colored rays of light had become less predominant as my vision had cleared and for the first time I could take a good look at the vampires we had fought.  
"Since you were pretty much forced to do so it is of little importance. Too many lives have been wasted today. We are offering you a chance. It won't be easy, but the choice is yours to make."

"I think not, my dear old friend, I think not." A new voice gleefully remarked. It was creaking like nails scratching over a blackboard. I didn't like it.  
"Crap!" the impossibly tall, dark haired vampire to my left exclaimed at the sight of the new arrivals. There was a whole group of them, engulfed in the hideous colors of hatred and fear. I decided that I should detest them, even the angelic looking little girl.  
"What brings us the honor of your presence?" Carlisle asked with more venom than I had thought possible.  
"What you have just achieved is quite impressive, but I see your coven is not complete." The stranger said, completely ignoring the question. "Yet you want this newborn to be a new addition. I don't think we can allow that, now can we, Jane?" the little blonde girl eyed me with an unreadable expression.  
"I don't see how that is _any_ of your business." Carlisle hissed back. Then it hit me. They were arguing about me! Whether I should live or die. It was a power struggle between the two groups, one of which I had been fighting just recently and the other I didn't even know. The absurdity of this was too much for me. I laughed, laughed like a maniac. All my so-called life I had been bordering on death. Would it be final this time? Would it work this umpteenth time? My own laughter hurt my head. I would die shortly or perhaps not, and I was beyond caring for either possibility.

Silence again. All eyed me like the lunatic I was. "Oh heavenly father, am I losing my faith or my mind?" I inquired. The small last fortress of reason and sanity in my brain persevered, but there was nothing it could do to stop my descent onto madness now. "Is there still balm in Gilead? There might, but the place is closed for construction I was told. Not that it matters. You're just an empty cage girl if you kill the birdie. Let me fade away to purgatory."  
My head felt like it was going to explode, and then it did, seemingly. Little Jane looked at me oddly, bewildered by the nonsense that came out of my mouth. And then it exploded again. And again. And again. And again. With every look that blonde demon seed gave me. She wanted to shut me up, but I was not going to give her that satisfaction. I screamed my lungs out instead.  
"Pray tell, what manner of cranial-rectal inversion spell have you administered on yourself today?" I asked the stranger group. I couldn't help it. They all looked so ... utterly constipated.

Suddenly I snapped out of it. There it was again. Impossible! The sweet scent that had led me here in the first place met my nostrils. It made me nauseous and exhilarated at the same time. The previously subsiding burning reawakened and spread through my entire body once more. Blood! I needed it. I wanted it. It called me, tempted me, tortured me. And I was like paralyzed. What about the Promised Land? It had been said I could, could walk amongst the people on earth again, without the sickening desire to have them writhing under my teeth, under my deathly grasp. But I could not bear the sweet temptation. My hunger overpowered me. All previous agony faded to insignificance.  
Now I even saw _her_, the girl, the source of the scent. Another of our kind covered her protectively.  
"Make it stop! Make it go away! I don't want to kill!" I begged.  
"Where are Jasper and Alice?" the boy protecting the human asked. I saw the gold and red between the two of them. One more reason. That question had been asked before, I remembered. It seemed out of context now.  
"I don't know. Bring Bella away from here quickly!" Carlisle shouted over my pitiful utterings. All eyes were on me, worried, intrigued, disgusted, bewildered; I couldn't tell. I was too preoccupied staying put, controlling myself for the slightest chance to get out of this somehow. I realized it was a test. My future existence depended on it. I realized _I did not want to die_ completely just yet. I had to prove myself worthy.

"I see the human girl is still … well, human. We do have an understanding I thought, Carlisle." The stranger began once more. "I have a splendid idea, my friend. You want this newborn to join your coven. Within a year the human must be transformed, then she can stay with you. If you do not fulfill my conditions we shall return and dispatch both the human and the newborn." And with that they vanished as quickly as they had appeared. Stunned silence. In my daze I couldn't evaluate the proceedings with the clarity needed.

"What's your name, girl?" a young woman softly asked me. This must be Esme Cullen, the wife, I tiredly concluded.  
"Thank you … thank you." was all I could bring out, fearing to go insane again. My name? I didn't really remember it right now. Was it that important? I felt this was the beginning of a new life. I might as well take on a new name.

"Jasper, what? Oh my God! No! NO! Tell me it's not true! NO!!!" another female voice behind me yelled. Shrill, panicking, desperate.  
"A small group of them separated from the others. Alice and I followed them. It was a trap." A new, male voice quietly explained, his apparent calm being betrayed by the fact that the voice broke with every word. For the first time genuinely scared I turned around. The new voice belonged to a tall blonde vampire with many scars. He carried a tiny body in his arms, the body of a girl with short black hair. She was of our kind. He carefully laid her down on the soft grass, as if she were a glass doll. Her head was almost completely severed from the neck. Her eyes were hollow. She was dead.

"Alice!"


	2. Chapter 1

_1__st__ Chapter: _

Their grief was painful. Even though I hadn't even known the girl it weighed me down like lead. Instinctively Esme had hugged me to her heart, more trying to comfort herself than me. Suddenly the tall blonde's head jerked up and he stared me right in the eyes.

"Who is she?" he more growled than said. I flinched. He was very intimidating. I could see each and every scar with the new, typical clarity - the two above the eyebrow, the ones on his neck and arms, on his chest and shoulders through the tattered clothing, some fresh, received in the recent battle and many, many older ones - and they all screamed for me to stay away as far as I possibly could. Jasper's scars were the uncanny symbol of his ruthless fighting abilities, each standing for one of our kind who had been stupid, pretentious, bloodthirsty or suicidal enough to challenge him. He was still there and they weren't. The message was easy to catch and thus I was scared of him, scared as hell.

"She is going to stay with us, Jasper." My new foster father announced.

"She is one of the newborns." The hurt in his eyes was heart-wrenching. I felt guilty, because I could see how much he loved the dead vampire girl, even though with the end of her existence the colored light connecting them had slowly begun to fade.

"It's not her fault, Jasper. It's not her fault." Esme reasoned, mantra-like, while slightly rocking us back and forth, as if I were a small child. How much I wanted to be younger again, not having to worry about vampires in any more respect than as Halloween costumes and decorations or the subject of classic black and white movies.

"I am sorry." I said to Jasper in a weak attempt to justify my existence and, moreover, show that I cared. I was shocked at how raspy my voice sounded as my throat was raw from thirst. Slowly, forcefully beating back my rising panic, I extended my hand to him, somehow feeling that the foundation for everything to come lay in this very moment. If I wanted to live I had to be brave now. "My name is Bree."

After yet another moment of silence he took my hand, wordlessly signaling his approval. So I could stay.

"Let's go home." Someone proposed, the exhaustion in their voice pre-eminent. I was too weak, too starved to walk by myself, so Carlisle carried me on his back, once again like I was still little.

* * *

On the way home I tried to avert my attention from the lifeless bundle in my arms as much as possible. Otherwise I would have gone insane right there and then. _Why didn't she foresee the attack?_

Instead I focused on our new family addition, wondering how it was even possible for a vampire to look that sickly. She was a tiny girl, although about half an inch taller than my Alice had been she was also much more slender and fragile looking. It reminded me of a porcelain prima ballerina doll. Even her skin seemed much fairer than average, it was almost transparent. Despite being covered in werewolf blood and the intense red of her worn out looking eyes I didn't find it in me to see anything but childlike innocence. It's hard to put into words. She looked more like a ghost than anything else. She might have been somewhere between fourteen and sixteen at the time of her transformation, yet her eyes deceived that impression, their expression suggesting that the girl had seen the sorrow of a dozen lives. Her features were very feminine and chiseled and the dark hair was at chin length. She wore nothing but a torn shirt that was too big and now half soaked in wolf blood and a washed out jeans that was ripped up just above the knees. There were no shoes, not even socks and also no personal items like a piece of jewelry or maybe a watch. The clothes didn't even fit her, a fact that suggested she had had to scavenge them from others, maybe newborns that hadn't survived the internal fights. She might as well have come directly out of an actual war zone as far as appearance and state of her clothing was concerned, the only survivor of a nightmarish massacre. I could also feel the fear. It radiated off her like the fire that now consumed her defeated newborn siblings radiated warmth. But that wasn't her only emotion. I could also pick up on sadness, guilt, exhaustion – more mental than physical, shock, relief – probably that the battle was finally over - and the slightest trace of hope. And thirst, a thirst so desperate my own throat constricted.

We arrived at our house again. I didn't know whether I should be glad about that or not. At least Edward had spared enough consideration to not bring Bella here. In my current state I surely had no control about my thirst whatsoever, and the newborn was a different story altogether. Had Bella or any human indeed been here the question wouldn't have been _if_ we could resist the scent, the question would be who was faster to snap her fragile neck and fill their stomach with her delectable blood, me or the newborn. We would have killed Bella, then Edward would have killed us and after that, himself. Though I fancied the thought of following my Alice to the other side it would have made her death useless. It would have been for nothing, and that just couldn't be.

Carlisle came up to me. It was only then that I realized I still had Alice' lifeless body clutched tightly in my arms, protecting her like I should have when that newborn attacked. I felt the pitiful glances on me. Though he hadn't particularly asked for it I relayed the more detailed story to Carlisle.

During the course of the battle Alice had noticed around four newborns splitting up and taking off into the vague direction of where Bella and Edward were. She also saw their plan to find the source of the delicious scent. Without hesitation she had dashed off after them and I followed in her steps. The fight was irate, but seemingly unorganized on their part. I had just gotten hold of the first one and started to rip him into shreds when everything turned awry. I heard a small whimper behind me as I tore my teeth into the newborns neck. I knew right away that it was Alice. I could pick out her voice everywhere, at any time. Turning around I saw another newborn, who had mostly been keeping to the background up until now, gleefully grinning at me as he tore his teeth into Alice' arm again. This time she screamed. She couldn't move as two more newborns pinned her to the ground. I jumped, but as if on cue was hit by something, or rather many somethings, in mid-air and also pinned to the ground. At least three newborns held me down with all their infamous strength. Where the hell had they come from? The boy averted his malicious gaze from Alice' horrified face to mine as he shifted and revealed his fatally shimmering fangs, only to then rabidly sink them into her neck, wildly tearing through it as if it were warm butter and not the rock hard body of a grown vampire. I didn't need to go into the futile search for words to properly convey my emotions at this; everyone knew them well enough as they rolled off me without control. Just before he snapped her neck completely I managed to rid myself of the newborns on my back and in the same movement tackle him. We fought and he bit me two times in the process. It had burned more than any other previous newborn bite I had ever received, searing through my flesh like concentrated acid. It didn't help him however. Within a few moments I had dismembered him. The others met the same fate before I set their remains on fire. Alice would have come back together by now, easily so I more hoped than expected, but she hadn't. Her tiny body still lay there motionlessly, the eyes dulled, the head at an odd angle. The ordinary newborn bites on my arms, neck and torso had all almost completely healed, leaving a number of new scars. Merely the two bites Alice' murderer had landed still burned. They even persisted to pain me now that we were back at home. Also the appearance of Alice' wounds hadn't changed. The torn skin was subtly darkened, discolored to an extent that it might as well have been shadows for an untrained eye.

"It's been cauterized." Carlisle assessed solemnly, reluctantly putting the awful truth into words. The bite of that newborn had been different in its searing quality. The wounds it tore were sealed. They would never come back together again.

If I had had the slightest trace of hope before it vanished now. I intently stared into the faces of my family. Emmett and Rosalie pained, holding on to each other for solace; Carlisle, hardly able to hold up his countenance, only fueled by the belief that he had to be strong for us; Esme, clearly in shock and desperately clinging on to the newborn girl, as if she were her only connection to this world. The girl itself quickly averted her huge, piercing red eyes in fear when our gazes met. Edward and Bella didn't know it yet. How would they take it? Each blaming themselves to maximum degree of course. Even though it wasn't their fault, it was _mine_. Without disturbing the silence I climbed the stairs to our room and laid Alice' tiny body out on our broad bed.

* * *

Jasper had recounted the gory tale of the girl's, Alice', death. I shivered involuntarily because I knew exactly whom he meant. His name had been Quentin, his eyes cold despite their flaming red color, his typical expression a sadistic smirk and his venom unlike any other. I had managed to somehow keep well clear of him while we were locked up, but others weren't as fortunate. He had evoked almost as much fear as Victoria, thus securing himself the undisputed position of third in command after Riley. Even as a human Quentin must have been aggressive, sinister, dangerous; all traits only amplified by his transformation. In my eyes Jasper had performed a miracle in finishing off that evil, sadistic psychopath. On the other side it only served to heighten my fear of him. Sure, he had given his approval that I may stay with his family, but it had been reluctant. How long would he be able to bear the presence of one of the monsters who had killed his most beloved?

Carlisle took a long, weary look at me, but it wasn't unkind.

"You need something to still your thirst." He said, more a conclusion than anything else. "Do you feel able to go hunting with us now?"

I just stared at him blankly. I didn't feel able to move, neither physically nor mentally. Instinctively I tightened my grip around Esme. He sighed exhaustedly, but smiled weakly.

"Ok then. Emmett? There must be a herd of deer a few miles to the north." And with that the two males took off. Esme shifted and started rubbing my back soothingly, motherly. I relished it. The other girl introduced herself as Rosalie and suggested we all get cleaned up, snidely remarking something about wolf stink. On the outside she was cold and derisive, but one look into her golden eyes revealed that deep down inside she was hurting just as badly as everyone else.

I found myself enveloped in hot water, sweetly scented foam lathered in my hair. For a moment the fruity peach and sensual rose scents of the shampoo allowed me to tune out of this nightmare. I craved it, this moment of serenity that made this day seem unreal. I needed it to heal, if even just a tiny little bit. It was okay as long as I could manage to pull myself together enough to cope with this trauma. Still in my trance-like state I dried myself and absentmindedly put on the clothes Esme had laid out for me, all the while softly humming to myself.

_I've heard there was a secret chord  
That David played and it pleased the Lord  
But you don't really care for music, do you?  
It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth  
The minor fall and the major lift  
The baffled king composing Hallelujah _

It took me a while to realize I had begun singing the words out loud. When I did I quickly shut up. It seemed inappropriate.

* * *

_**A/N:** Ok, thanks for taking the time to have a look at this. Theonly thing I appreciate even more is when you guys comment and tell me what you think. If there are any questions arising don't hesitate to ask. Maybe it will be explained further on or maybe I really hadn't thought of it. I'd also appreciate any kind of input, for example if you have an idea for the title of any particular chapter don't be shy, just mail them to me, cause I'm usually pretty pathetic at coming up with titles. Alright, I think that's all for now. The next chapter is almost finished already. _


	3. Chapter 2

_2__nd__ Chapter:_

A few weeks had passed. The family had put on a façade that was supposed to conceal the actual depth of their sorrow. Everyone developed their own way of coping. Emmett for example couldn't take a frown from anyone anymore. It was like he had miraculously gotten allergic to bad mood and thus always tried to cheer everyone up, whether they wanted it or not. Rosalie hid behind her cold exterior, her phony indifference and biting cynicism. Carlisle spent more time than ever at the hospital, as if only he managed to save enough lives it would somehow make up for Alice' demise. Esme redirected the best part of her motherly affection to poor little me, doting on me with so much vigor it was almost suffocating, and I gladly took what I could get. It's not that I craved attention, just security, stability. Edward held onto his Bella, that's what the delicious smelling prey-to-be was called, clung to her as if she were his last refuge from insanity. He didn't bring her into the house anymore, even when he knew perfectly well that I was away hunting. It irked me a bit, but then again I saw his point. I had absolutely no self-control. When he had come home after the battle, practically bathed in her scent, my instincts had set in and I had attacked him. A small scar on his elbow would bear witness to my slipping up from now on.

Then there was Jasper. Since sharing the story of Alice' death with the rest of the family he had not said a word. He hadn't even moved, just carried her corpse to what I presumed was their room, laid it out on the bed, knelt beside it and stared at the morbid display, without ever once shifting, blinking, even just breathing. Though I still was scared of him I couldn't help but worry. He seemed to be hovering just along the thin line that marked the border to a complete mental breakdown. Then again I was the one to talk about mental breakdowns regarding my near-death-shouting-nonsense episode with the Volturi. Nobody dared disturb him in his silent death watch, but neither could help but cringe slightly when passing by their room. On the other side no one dared to simply pull the door shut. It would have been nothing short of a sacrilege, plus I suspect they also wanted to keep an eye on Jasper in order to make sure he didn't do anything silly. Losing another member of their family would have doubtlessly been more than their good hearts were able to endure. Sometimes we would catch each other standing in the doorframe simply staring, trying the impossible: to comprehend his heartbreak and find something, anything, to say or do that would make it bearable again. It would be so much easier if our kind could actually cry.

I hopped of the stool at the kitchen counter and turned towards Esme. In such short time I already loved her almost as much as my own mother.

"What do you reckon the guys bring back for dinner tonight?" I started to chat aimlessly. The others rather didn't take me out hunting with them yet. Apparently it was the hiking season. Not that I regretted it much. I still couldn't quite befriend the thought of slaughtering huge animals.

"I don't know, baby. What would you prefer?" she asked back. Esme didn't fancy living out her violent tendencies either. She was too caring for that. If it were only for the two of us to decide I'm sure we would opt not to drink any blood from any creature.

"Wouldn't we all?" a deep voice behind me wryly remarked at my ponderings.

"Eddie!!!" I squealed. Except for the fact that I had the urge to kill off the love of his life and almost ripped off his arm we got along quite well. Seemingly I had something about me that made people patronizing. As long as it helped me fit in better I was thoroughly fine with it.

"Please let it not be grizzly _again_." I murmured looking at the blood bags in Carlisle's hand. For practicality and since they wouldn't let me out of the house that far yet he had taken to draining a few of the animals into these bags for Esme and me when they went hunting.

"You just don't know what's good, squirt." Emmett scolded, feigning offence. Despite or maybe because being mauled by a bear these beasts had become his favorite.

"No worries, we know you don't particularly like those." Carlisle said softly, handing each Esme and me one of the bags. I sniffed and a small smile spread on my face as I took the tube between my lips, gently sucking in the soothing liquid. Deer, I liked deer.

"What about …" Rosalie hesitantly began, clutching a third blood-filled bag and glancing up the stairs. Jasper hadn't been drinking since he went up there. His eyes were beyond dark and reason said that the thirst must be too much to endure, yet he remained in his trance-like state.

"He's already collecting dust." Edward darkly remarked, the worry eminent in his voice. If only Jasper could be helped, but nobody had an idea how to get through to him. It was in moments like these that the façade crumbled.

"Maybe it would be good…" I shyly began, my voice trailing off as everyone looked at me oddly. It was rare that I spoke up on my own account. Suddenly uncertain I took another sip of my deer blood.

"What is it, baby?" Esme softly asked, her warm-heartedness giving me the confidence to go on. I could rely on my human experiences after all. What I was about to suggest had helped my mom and me a great deal when daddy died.

"I was thinking that maybe it could help to hold a funeral, to provide for some closure, you know?" Silence. Complete and utter silence. Sometimes I felt like sprouting a second head simply to provide the world with something to actually gape at. "Just an idea." I mumbled.

"No baby, it's a good idea, it really is." Esme tried to appease me and gently put her arm around my shoulders. "But Jasper will have to decide that. It depends upon when he is ready to let go and accept it."

"And who'll be the lucky one to walk into the lion's den?" Rosalie hissed. She was being hostile so as not to let her hurt and worry show.

"That's not important right now, Rose. Jasper's not in any fit state to listen." Edward said. He must have been trying to tune into his brother's, no _our_ brother's, mind and found nothing but desolate chaos, or even worse: nothing. It made me sad to know that anyone would have to suffer like this, even if they scared me to bits.

Why did I do this again? Right. Family. Sense of belonging. Not being a total monster. Trying to please. Trying to fit in. right now they were trying to fit me into a dark dress that was as gorgeous as it was age-inappropriate, but it had seemed to cheer them up and so I had begrudgingly agreed to play Esme's and Rosalie's dress-up doll for the day. At least I didn't have to go shopping with them yet. I was still only a few months of age, atop my sixteen years of human life, and not at all ready to be unleashed onto the unsuspecting Washington population. It was a relief somehow as I had a hunch that going on a shopping spree with the two women would be tiresome at least, and gruesome at the likeliest. On the other hand I hated being stuck in the house with a looming shadow almost palpable everywhere in close vicinity. Yes, Jasper's state had remained unchanged in his apathy and mine hadn't changed much either as I still went ballistic at the faintest whiff of human. It mostly took all three men (or Rosalie when Edward wasn't there) to refrain me and that was when the scent was actually far away. I resented myself for not making any progress though Carlisle was always quick to assure me that I was doing well, that I upheld the right attitude. I couldn't hear it anymore. This is partly why I had agreed to endure this, because it should take our minds off things and provide for some female bonding experience. Up until now I didn't feel it was working. I felt more like being suffocated as the two older women swooned over me. But hell, what did I have to lose? A few moments of eternity? Then again there was lace. I loathed lace. Involuntarily I frowned at my own un-girlyness.

"Is this really necessary?" I whined discontently as Rosalie moved on to do something with my hair.

"Oh come on, little. This is fun." She whined back. I thought it was funny that every member of my new family had come up with a personal nickname for me, rather than ever call me by my real name. For Esme and Carlisle I was 'baby', Rosalie called me 'little', Emmett in all his brotherly affection entitled me as 'squirt' and to Edward I was simply 'pup'.

"Alright." I murmured in submission. It was a mere curling iron after all, not thumbscrews. Defeated I drew in a deep breath of fresh air through the open window. Pines and ocean, grass, moss, birds … wait, why was the window even open? _Oh crap._

* * *

I don't know for how long I had been in this position when I regained my senses. It had been like a self-imposed vacuum. I knew however that what had woken me up from my stupor were the voices of my adopted mother and sister, calling out for me with panic-strained urgency.

"Jasper!" it came from the floor below me. There also was a sound as if someone was thrashing the place. But who? And why? Had Bella already been changed? Could I have possibly missed that much?

"Jasper!!!" Another call, more desperate. It couldn't possibly take five outgrown vampires to refrain a single newborn. Emmett and Edward should be able to handle it by themselves, but they weren't at home. And Carlisle wasn't there either. Riddles over riddles shot through my mind as I flew down the flight of stairs and into the room that was the source of the noise.

I oversaw the situation quickly. There was a distinct, delectable human smell wafting in through the open window, probably a hiker wandering by the house too closely. Esme and Rosalie were trying to hold down a tiny dark haired figure who struggled so furiously that her body was only visible as a mere blur. She emitted threatening growls that seemed far too low for such a tiny person. Esme caught my eye, silently pleading me to calm whoever it was the two of them were struggling with. With a few long strides I crossed the room. She was a newborn still, that much was certain. Else Rose wouldn't have had such troubles trying to overpower her. This couldn't be Bella either, I realized. This one was way too tiny, her hair was too short and straight, Edward wasn't anywhere near and I faintly remembered her scent. A brief memory flashed before my inner eye as I firmly grabbed the small girl, holding down her arms at her sides. Huge, flaming red eyes shying away from me, tattered clothes, a shaking hand and a timid voice saying "My name is Bree."

"Bree." I whispered into her ear as I struggled to at the same time keep her from tearing me apart and trying to release a massive wave of calmness onto her.

"Bree." I said again, with more urgency this time. She slowed down insignificantly and tried to find a way to sink her teeth into my arm so I would drop her. She was in blood frenzy, very hard to come by. It was like being thrust back into the first few decades of my existence as a vampire when I used my abilities to control the newborns and keep them from ripping apart themselves or each other.

"Bree! Calm down!" I commanded while releasing further calmness onto her. She didn't seem to be fazed by it at first, though eventually her frenzy subsided and the instincts wore off, allowing my powers to take their full effect on her. She awoke from her blood-scent-induced trance, the glaze over her eyes disappearing, and slumped down in my arms like a ragdoll. Alright, maybe that had been a little too much calm.

* * *

_Oh dear, I always forget the disclaimer!  
Ok, then, once and for all: **All characters are not mine (sadly) and neither is S. Meyer's original storyline. This is written for enjoyment and not for profit, so don't sue me. **_


	4. Chapter 3

3rd Chapter:

I felt dizzy at first, then fearful. Dear Lord, had I …? The last thing I consciously remembered was the mouthwatering scent of a human wafting through the open window. I didn't dare open my eyes yet for fear that I would be met with the sight of a sucked out corpse. For a moment it occurred to me that this tactic of avoidance may not be the best possible therapy for my newborn blood thirst. Sure it kept me away from my not-to-be prey for now, but if the time come their overbearing scent might hit me again like it had just done, knocking out all reason, free will and self restraint, all discipline, and then I would turn into a decrepit monstrosity yet again despite being 'of age'. On the other hand the current episode had all too clearly shown why I couldn't be unleashed upon the population that still had a pulse. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place so to speak. Nevertheless I would speak to Carlisle about this. Perhaps he had an idea how I could train my self control without putting anyone into danger.

"Hey, little. Little, talk to me!" I heard Rosalie plead, unable to hide the distress in her tone. "Oh I hate it when she does that."

"Does what?" a dark, faintly familiar voice asked.

"Drawing in on herself like that. It's like she's locked herself up in a shell. There's hardly any getting through." Rosalie explained gruffly.

"Sometimes one just needs time to think. She should be alright." The other voice replied. It was unmistakably male and sounded solemn, somewhat pensive and I got the feeling that he wasn't predominantly justifying merely _my_ behavior with his first comment.

I tried to shift weakly, but someone held me in a firm grasp from behind, pressing my arms to my sides. I could have broken this restraint if only I was ready to mobilize my entire newborn strength, but that would mean the danger of losing control over myself again. Not a favorable option, so I went for the diplomatic and civilized way and slowly opened my eyes. Rosalie was hovering above me, her face hard, but softening when she saw me react. Esme I couldn't see in my range of vision and the long, strong arms still held me. Who was that? Who was that tall? Well, compared to me they all were tall, but this person had to be at least six feet. My own feet didn't even touch the floor as I was being held. Emmett smelled differently. Carlisle was at the hospital, Edward visited Bella. Jasper would still be a damn statue one floor above this room. Previous havoc I had wreaked hadn't been able to disturb him, so why should this one? A friend of the family I didn't yet know? I theorized, while glancing down at the arms that were wrapped around my middle. They were covered with thin, silvery, bow-shaped scars. Instantly I froze again. If my heart had still been beating before it would have stopped now. I felt cold panic surge through me like a seizure. As if he had felt it too he instantly released me. Frantically I scrambled away from his tall, looming frame and crouched behind Rosalie. Esme stood on the opposite side of the room, behind Jasper and her expression made me want to slap myself. I knew my panic was irrational, but that didn't make it any less real. I knew he had just helped me not to turn into a vicious monster, but my instincts were what had kept me existing until I met the Cullens, and these told me to fear him. Jasper himself didn't even look offended in the slightest, only indifferent and absentminded. Summoning all my countenance I stood straight and apologized for my behavior, then thanked him for his help, which he acknowledged in a polite yet detached manner.

Esme must have dashed downstairs at some time during the previous minutes for now she handed each Jasper and me one of the infamous blood bags.

"You must be hungry." She said. Her voice sounded alert, determined to pick up on any hint her beloved foster children might give her to their well being. Jasper looked bewildered by the bags at first, but his thirst quickly made him dismiss that oddity. Even though our kind can't die, not even from lack of nutrition, he was starved. Greedily he gulped down one bag, then a second and ultimately a third while I gingerly sipped on mine. Just never mind the utter morbidity of our entire existence.

---

"Thunderstorm! Thunderstorm! Yay, yippie, baseball, thunderstorm!" shouted a very hyperactive Emmett as he danced around the house ecstatically. Jasper gave him some glares over his book, since he still didn't take well to anybody being anything remotely related to happy as long as he was in grief for his beloved, yet eventually he had to succumb to the overwhelming waves of joy that emanated from our brother. I can't say I felt particularly bad for him _not_ having to feel bad for a couple of hours. Plus it was baseball. I love baseball as such already, but now would be the first time in what had begun to seem like the beginning of an eternity I could go outside. There'd be no humans around with a thunderstorm, and even if there were the wind and rain would drown out their scent. And it would be the first time ever I really got to play baseball myself, actively, as in pitching, as in running and as in feeling the weight and shape of the bat in your hands and concentrating on the little white projectile of a ball that was coming straight towards you, as in hitting it with all your force … alright, I know I'm getting a bit boring and carried away here, but in my human life I had almost always been too sick to play and now I got to play with all the physical benefits of vampirism. I knew it had to be good for something. So excuse me if I actually found myself on Emmett's back, enthusiastically chanting along.

We had actually felt the storm coming already about two days ago, our heightened senses allowing us to predict its arrival quite accurately, too. Rosalie had taken it as an unmissable opportunity to get me a sports outfit (or rather one for every day of a week), but fortunately I didn't have to go with her. Yet I can't complain really, because she brought me a Yankees hat back home. Joy!

Joy was exactly what Jasper lacked. Even though the excitement of the others eventually rubbed off on him he could not find peace within his own mind. I could see it due to my `gift´ which isn't really that different from Jasper's. He was an empath while my power concerns the relationships people have with one another and, as I had now learned, themselves as well. It was made visible to me through more or less intense, differently colored and shaped rays of light. Edward was awed when I first opened my mind wide enough for him to see through my eyes, and admittedly it kinda looks like a crazy acid trip. Quite psychedelic. Carlisle said it might be possible that I also hold the power to change what I see, for better or for worse, though I haven't yet found out how and I'm also not sure I'd even want to. Sure it would be nice to help people get along better, but on the other hand it would be a forced friendliness, nothing real and substantial, and I have a suspicion that kind of interfering might just about make things worse in the end.

The clapping sound of Jasper closing his book and the first roll of thunder coincided harmoniously, prompting the `Go!´ signal for the rest of us.

"Alright, let's play baseball!" Jasper declared, a slight grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He would hate himself later, but later wasn't now. Since he couldn't simply blind out our anticipation forever at a certain point is became too overbearing. He just had to let it flow, picking up the emotions we all emanated and radiating them back into the room. They became stronger through this process, more pronounced. He channeled and amplified them in a way. One could say my brother is an emo-channel-amp. And every once in a while we had to force-feed him a little contentment. Edward could hardly contain his laughter at hearing my thoughts. _`You tell him I thought that and you're a goner.´_ I thought menacingly which he just shrugged off with a grin. Hey, at least I wasn't (that) afraid of Jasper anymore. I'm trying, right? I remember not having brothers wasn't half as demanding all the way up the scale to downright upsetting, then again it had also been just a fraction of the fun. `_PS. I won't be on your team, Yankee opposer.´ _I mentally teased, tapping my new hat, as the two of us reached the intended field before the others. There was just one more thing I was dying to know.

"Edward? While we're waiting for the slowpokes to arrive can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"Why do you always look at me so oddly when I think of my real parents?"

He hesitated for a moment and looked me straight into the eyes, as if he were searching for something. "Well," he began, "It's just that it's unusual. Actually you're not supposed to remember your human life, not in such detail at least. Every other of our kind forgot most, some everything but their name, like Alice." Here he paused a split second, making me almost regret I brought up the topic. "Normally you have to grasp the memories firmly time and time again or they'll just fade away as if you never existed before."

"Oh." I said. Oh, great. Even in a world of freaks I still managed to be a bit freakier than the rest. Splendid.

"Don't worry so much, pup." Edward spoke up again in reaction to my thoughts. "Who knows what it's good for."

"Alright, thanks brother."

The baseball was great, simply marvelous. Better than my most vivid daydreams. Today even replaced the number one on my list of happiest days of my life so far, and that means something because the former happiest day of my life had been seeing a Yankees game with my Dad when I was still so little I could sit on his shoulders. But today's feelings beat that by far. It gave me the opportunity to vent off a good part of my newborn energy and I loved the feeling of my own strength. Emmett could grumble all he wanted about me not having to bat the ball all the way to Canada, because I can his team lost. He totally got owned! I should challenge him to a round of arm wrestling soon. The mental image amused me (and Edward) since I as a whole didn't have much more diameter than one of his arms. It would be fun beating him.

* * *

I was losing my grip on this world. Everything was slowly slipping away and I didn't have much motivation to grasp for it. I had lost my anchor. Alice had been my anchor. I know for everyone outside it always seemed the other way around – Alice was so bouncy, pixie-like, always cheerful, a bundle of endless energy whereas I, stoic and reserved, haunted and damned – two sides of the same coin. Nevertheless it had always been her who kept me here, who gave me the strength to fight my thirst and the best reason to: her love. Without her I would have been worse than dead a long time ago. Without my Alice I would have become a monster, would have lost even the slightest hint of humanity. She was my anchor in this world and now she is gone because I couldn't protect her. Because of it I now am worse than just a monster; I am a failed monster.

At any given moment in time I found myself wanting to know what the future brings just so I could go ask the only person who can see it, but she isn't here anymore. I wonder whether this emptiness will ever fade. I wonder if there will ever be a time again when I'm not bordering on indifference to the one side, on despair to the other, on impotent anger to the third and on insanity to the last. Maybe I should simply call on the Volturi and have them end it. But my family would never let me go. And I couldn't leave them now. I cursed my own weakness for the umpteenth time.

Even my self-control is affected. I was close to slipping up a few times now. My plan to distract myself with the newborn wasn't a good idea either. She was just too much like Alice and at the same time not like her at all. Bree frequently reminded me of Alice in their similarities and even more so in their differences. I found myself drawing comparisons more often than not, well aware of the fact that it was unfair towards the girl. As if she didn't have enough to cope with as it is.

But it was just so hard to bear. For one Bree bore a striking resemblance to Alice. Over the last few weeks there have been many occasions where I mistook her for my beloved from afar, especially when she hadn't been facing me. She moved with a similar lightness and grace to her steps. She was so cheerful most of the time, awed by her new abilities, though never as outgoing as Alice had been. She kept her innermost thoughts bottled up as well as she could, yet that doesn't really stand a chance against a mind reader and an empath.

At first she had been afraid of me. Indeed she had actually been afraid of almost everything at first, a fear of the unknown. She reminded me of a child in this and many more aspects, frequently humbled by the big, strange world, sometimes horrified by it, but always wanting to experience everything to its fullest possible measure. Alice had never really been afraid of anything as long as she knew her family was safe. Bree was a glutton for life as if she had never truly lived when her heart was still beating, as if she had been locked up in a dark vacuum before. I strongly suppose it has something to do with her human life, which she remembers surprisingly well, but whether to tell her tale or not is her decision alone. I only know that whenever her thoughts stray and wander back to that time she gets almost unbearably sad. Apart from those moments she is adapting well, though her mind is still strongly opposed to hunting. She loathes and resents the true nature of our kind just as much as the rest of us, if not more so as she is struggling with her newborn urges. We don't even know exactly how `old´ she is and hence can't tell when she finally will grow out of it.

* * *

_Okay, feedback suggestions, questions, you know the drill. Reviews will cheer Jasper up a little after I have been mean enough to kill off the gorgeous Alice. BIG HUGE SORRY to all Alice fans. It's the kind of sacrifice you have to make for a (hopefully) good story. C'mon and admit it: y'all love a little serious drama, don't cha? I know I do. Need it. Crave it. Enough ranted. Enjoy! Keep it coming :)  
Suggest Chapter titles!_


	5. Chapter 4

4th Chapter:

There was so much to ponder that it seemed to exceed even a vampiric mind. One part of me wanted to divulge in my grief, just let it go and wallow in my pathetic self-pity forevermore. That was the coward. Another part of me can't decide who to blame. Is it James for being a tracker, effectively starting off this vicious circle? If he hadn't insisted in Bella as his prey Edward wouldn't have had to kill him. Victoria really can't be blamed for _wanting_ revenge, I see that now. But she can be blamed for her ruthless, monstrous approach. Was it really necessary to end so many human lives for vengeance? I think not. I think she can be blamed for _taking_ revenge the way she decided to. The rotten Volturi could be blamed for not doing their job, especially since they pretty much designated it to themselves. They claim to keep peace and order among the vampires of the world. If so they should have stopped Victoria right after her first murders. Edward blames himself and so does Bella. I don't. It's not their fault. In fact all that can be blamed for Alice' death are dead themselves now. Vanished. All but one. Me.

Yet another part of me was getting sick of all the guilt, the sorrow and pity emanating from my family. I felt bad enough as it was? Did they really have to push me further and further towards the edge with all their bottled up emotions? Then again I knew perfectly well that I would be equally as irate if Alice' death didn't affect them at all, if they just went on as if nothing had happened, as if she had never even been there in the first place, as if it didn't matter… either take was entirely unfair. Everyone had their own way of coping and I hated myself even more for being so incapable to deal with it all. Of course they missed her as well. Sometimes I think I'm going crazy.

The last part of me just wants to let go and do as Bree suggested. An official funeral to provide for closure. A farewell. Simply letting go and burying the pain along with her. And then that would be unfair towards my Alice. She didn't deserve to be forgotten like that, shoved aside like an unwanted child. I miss her so much.

* * *

I think I'll never get used to all that `extra space´ in my mind. I could follow the baseball match on TV, bicker with Emmett at the same time, read a book on the side and have a conversation with Esme or Carlisle. The mental capacity is huge. Most of the time it's downright confusing because anything can catch your attention. Your head feels like a computer on the brink of a breakdown because a million requests are running simultaneously and then there just needs to be the faintest whiff of blood and the mind goes completely blank, giving way to deadly instincts. I still made no real progress in the whole self-control business. Right attitude my rear end. I can't contain myself no matter how much I want it. It just doesn't work. Carlisle says I should give it time; that I want it too much and can't but end up disappointing my own expectations. I really can't hear it anymore. I just don't want to be a bloodsucking monstrosity. He says that it's not my fault if it doesn't work yet. Not my fault! Of course it's not my fault! I know that. I didn't ask to be kidnapped right out of my damn hospital bed. It's not a question of fault, it's about me wanting to make the best of the cards I've been dealt and yes, it's utterly enraging and frustrating that I can't do it on my own. I could do it on the meadow just after the battle, and that was already some months ago now, so why didn't it work anymore? Why can't I do it again? What am I doing wrong?

Frustrated and put off by these worries I tried to vent some off by assaulting the wall with a paint brush. Currently I was decorating my room with the help of Esme. The friendly pastel yellows and oranges should have raised my mood, but failed miserably.

"Baby, I don't think the wall will be persuaded to paint itself if only you glare at it enough." Esme offered with a sympathetic smile that as per usual took the edge off her dryness. At that point I also realized that I had been painting the same spot over and over again for the past ten minutes. I huffed and moved on to the next spot, annoyed by my own bad mood. Esme wanted to say something for a moment, but let it go after a second thought and engaged me in some meaningless chatter. That was good, because nothing she could have said would have been able to make me feel better on this particular issue. Instead she managed to take my mind off it for the time being.

Sometime later Carlisle returned from work. He leaned in the doorframe ever so casually and smiled kindly at us in all our paint-splattered glory. The room looked lovely though. It was one of the previously empty ones under the roof and across from Esme's office-atelier-thingy. What had formerly been Jasper and Alice' bedroom was situated at the end of the hallway. The door was typically kept close nowadays, but it still radiated a kind of eerie and awkward atmosphere. Maybe that would vanish after her body would be moved, but that decision was solely up to Jasper.

Carlisle duly admired our work. The paint was still wet of course, but would have dried enough by tomorrow to move in the furniture. With Esme's help I had decided on some pretty cherry wood pieces. It would look very warm and anti-hospital. The door was extra stable, just in case. It would be perfect.

"I have a little surprise for you." Carlisle said and asked me to come downstairs with him. Jasper was sitting there on the couch, absentmindedly flipping through the pages of yet another ancient looking book. He looked up briefly and nodded hello before diverting his gaze again.

"Actually this concerns both of you." Carlisle began, "I have a rather unconventional plan how to come by your shared problem. I don't know if it is really fit to work, but hope the two of you are willing to have a try at it."

By now Jasper and I both eyed our adopted father curiously. What was he getting at? It was no secret that what burdened us both was our lack of self-control. What kind of method did he devise? Jasper voiced that exact question now. I thought Edward was the mind reader here!? Anyway, Carlisle's face lit up and he waved us over to the kitchen table.

"I was thinking a kind of shock therapy." He explained. "Sit down." He more offered than ordered and grabbed a glass from the counter. Out of his pocket he pulled one of the infamous blood bags. Mountain lion, if I were to guess. In the meantime he went on outlaying his theories.

"I thought of a way to reach highest possible immunity with the least possible risk to anyone's life." Now he poured the contents of the bag into the glass and set it down in the middle of the table. The savory scent filled the room immediately. My hand twitched towards the glass as I instinctively tried to chuck its contents down my throat to ease the uprising burning. Jasper's eyes had turned dark black from one second to the next. Nevertheless we both grasped the intended principle: we would expose ourselves to blood until it didn't faze us anymore. That was actually quite clever. It would require an enormous amount of will power, but on the other hand there was a certain competition factor added and a mutual control and motivation.

"Guess we're in this together, bro." I commented and put my hands under my thighs. I was very determined indeed. "I'm not losing to you, ya know?" I added, more to motivate myself than tease him. Nevertheless it prompted a small lop-sided grin from Jasper. Carlisle looked mighty pleased with himself and found he could leave us alone with our task now. Soundlessly he retreated and soon there was only Jasper, me and a glass full of fresh mountain lion blood. The thirst appeared to be pretty unimpressed and the burning rose vigorously in my throat. Did I say hard? Torturous would be more appropriate. Not breathing didn't really help that much either, because the air was already completely saturated with the rich and aromatic smell. Cool-calm-collect-mode, Bree. You can do it. Focus. Darn. No, I can't do it. I let my head drop onto the table in frustration. The table received a dent. "Oops." I remarked with an anxious look to the staircase. Nobody in sight. Jasper chuckled lightly.

"Darn, when will I learn to estimate my strength correctly?" I sighed and propped my head up on one arm.

"You're a very fast learner." He offered politely.

"That's sweet but that wasn't my question." I countered.

"Often you're too do-or-die about these things. Give yourself some time." he said softly. I left it at that for the time being and went back to staring down the red liquid. I really couldn't take it much longer. Yes, I could. No, I couldn't. I leant back in my chair in a feeble attempt to get away from the scent. Not working. Great, it's barely been five minutes and if I weren't technically dead already I'd swear I was dying right now. Damn, this was like the torments of Tantalus, only more or less self-imposed. As things stood I could either cave in to the thirst, try to walk away or …

"What exactly do you mean? About the `too do-or-die´?" I asked Jasper.

* * *

Her tiny face was scrunched up in frustration and her eyes, which were dark now but normally only showed little hints of red nowadays, were glued to the glass in the middle of the table. I thought about my answer for a moment.

"For example right now you're completely focused – on the contents of the glass. Concentration as such is good, but turning all your attention towards the object you want to avoid at all costs is quite counterproductive. It's like when you're up somewhere really high and get told not to look down. What do you instinctively do?"

"I'd look down." She said and frowned deeply, but averted her gaze from the blood. "So you say distraction is the way to go?" I nodded a yes and stopped breathing. Part of me hoped that she would just start reciting all famous Shakespeare speeches or something the like so I'd have something to concentrate on. It might not be very obvious, but I was struggling to keep my calm just as much as she did.

"Thinking of it, I've actually never been any higher than second storey." Bree mused. "Actually there are so many things I never did."

"Never climbed a tree or such?" I asked, mildly intrigued by these mysterious allusions and also reminiscent of the little I still remembered of my childhood. My siblings and I were responsible for most of mother's grey hair by fooling around up high in the trees around our farm. Good days.

"I tried once…when I was like five I think." She answered hesitantly. "But I fell off the first branch and broke my arm."

I said nothing, just nodded sympathetically since she seemed to get into a talking mood now.

"Ah well…" she sighed after a small pause, "I guess it's good you're so experienced in handling newborns."

I blinked, caught off guard by her sudden change of topic. It's amazing and frightening at the same time how a couple of harmless words can make you relive your darkest times again.

"I suppose." I merely mumbled. Then the scent became too overbearing and I pushed back the chair and went outside to clear my head with some fresh air. Bree appeared at my side and inhaled deeply, a small smile of relief spreading on her face. "I won." She declared.

"By the fraction of a second."

"Victory is victory, brother." She shrugged it off. "Hey Jasper, let's make a deal. We'll both train very hard and have achieved impeccable self-control until the wedding. What do you say?"

"I say we go back inside again and this time it will be you who has to flee outside first." I answered with a smirk.

"Oh, we'll see about that." She said, playfully nudging my side, as she was too short to reach up to my shoulder. From this day forward Bree and I would have our daily `training sessions´, some more successful than others, yet one couldn't deny a certain improvement.


	6. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5:_

I was just singing along some random song on the radio when the phone rang. Normally I wouldn't answer it, but basically everyone was out, Carlisle working, Esme and Rosalie organizing something for the wedding and the boys somewhere else.

"Hello, you have reached the Cullens. This is Bree speaking. How may I help you?" I answered in my best high-pitched, over the top telemarketer voice impersonation, which by the way I think is quite good considering I only ever knew that from TV. The voice on the other end gasped surprisedly, but regained her composure quickly.

"Hey Bree, this is Bella. I didn't really expect to actually catch you." She said. I could hear her accelerated heartbeat even through the phone.

"Oh, no problem, but Ed's not home. Actually no one's home, though I think Jasper might be out on the front porch reading." I spluttered.

"Out on the front porch?"

"Um, yeah. The entire living room and kitchen area kinda smells an awful lot of grizzly blood at the moment."

"Oh, I see. Carlisle's new training method. Edward told me about that. Is it working?"

"Sometimes better than other times. One needs to concentrate a lot."

"I know. Well, I mean I can imagine that. And actually I'm not calling for Edward or one of the others. It's you I wanted to talk to." Bella said, sounding really highly strung, and sharply inhaled again. Now it was my turn to be surprised.

"Oh." I said. And the grand prize for eloquence goes to … well not me, that much is certain.

"I know we haven't really talked to each other yet, um…"

"For obvious reasons. Listen, all this stuff – me wanting to kill you and so on – I just want you to know it's nothing personal."

"What? Oh, no. of course I know that. I'd never take it that way. It's not your fault." Uh, the dreaded phrase again. I could hear Bella nervously tapping her fingers on a wooden surface. "So no hard feelings there, don't worry." She inhaled again. The tapping was still there as well as the racing heart beat. Both weren't in the least bit in any relation to one another that could be considered rhythmical.

"Before you go on Bella, would you just do me a favor?" I asked.

"Um, sure. I'll try."

"Please just try to calm down a bit. I don't … well, I'd _like_ to say I don't bite, but that's rather pointless now. Just be assured that I won't be worming through the telephone line. Just relax."

"Oh, okay. Sorry." Finally the tapping subsided and Bella breathed deeply a few times before continuing. "So, we're going to belong to the same family in almost no time and I thought we should maybe get to know each other a little before." She said, sounding like it was a speech she had rehearsed well beforehand. "Edward has been swooning over you quite a lot lately. To be honest it's made me very curious and since it's also mainly because of me that you became a vampire in the first place…" here her voice failed. I had already been told that Bella had a certain tendency towards depression and blaming herself for everything imaginable (which by the way seems to be a common thing among vampires. Two thirds of my brothers here suffer from the same symptoms and I think it's quite clear who I mean).

"Bella, first of all you are in no way responsible for what Victoria did. Don't blame yourself for Alice and don't blame yourself for me either. I'm fine, really. Second, there's only one person in the whole world that our dearest Edward swoons over and that person does indeed begin with B but ends on `ella´, alright? So don't make yourself smaller than you are." That little speech, delivered with almost a renowned rhethoric's zeal, earned me a stifled giggle on the other end of the line.

"He also said you were a little odd." Bella remarked.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, but his exact words were more like `She's a strange little person, but she's got a heart of gold.´"

"Oh dear, did he really call me strange?" _Dearest_ older brother, we shall have a little talk about _that_ later. Just wait 'til you come home. "Well, it would be horrid if you'd get a completely false image of me because of Edward, so I totally agree with you. Let's get to know each other!"

"Okay!" Bella chimed in, obviously infected with my current good spirits. Then there was some awkward silence.

"Um … where do we start?"

"Is there anything in particular that you'd like to know?" I offered. "But given it's _`Bree's life story´_ I do hope you have some time on your hands."

"If you're okay with telling me…" Bella answered. I could hear her smile all the way through the phone line.

"Oh, don't worry. I'll tell you if it bothers me." I answered and flopped down on the couch, getting ready for a long conversation that was to be succeeded by many others.

* * *

Back to point zero again after countless hours of staring at the glass on the table. Bree was tapping her nose with her index finger and clicking her heels, her eyes the deepest black and once again glued to the blood with a look of the most utter longing, as if she wanted to crawl inside the glass. As if I didn't wish for the same … I had stopped counting after twelve hours. That's 720 minutes, 43 200 seconds, and I had counted every single one. There's barely anything in the world that can wear a vampire down like resisting your thirst. In moments like these I sometimes doubted the success chances of Carlisle's highly unorthodox approach, then again Bree and I had so far managed to stay put for such extended periods of time. But it was only animal blood. We didn't know exactly how long it had been since Bree's transformation, but from her current strength and speed, although that was already decreasing bit by bit, it could be told that she was still most definitely a newborn. For that reason it was pointless to move on to human blood yet. Blood… blood…

Bree was humming quietly and clacking her heels to the rhythm. It was a little habit of hers to absentmindedly hum or sing without apparent reason, but no one was going to complain about that because she had the most amazing voice any of us had ever heard. It baffles all description, not only due to the fact one would never expect such a mighty sound to come out of such a tiny person. Ah, but that incessant heel clacking! Metal against wooden chair leg again and again and again. It was like Chinese water torture for the ears, or was it just because by now my nerves were so strained by now that a dust particle in the wrong place could tick me off?

"Bree, please!" I pleaded with a certain aggravated edge to my voice and grimaced down to her shoes. As pretty hardcore tomboyish as she was, but one of the few girly features she had was an irrevocable passion, if not downright love for shoes. High heeled shoes. Very high heeled indeed. Today's were striped in bold yellow and purple, made of satin and with a fancy bow at the tip. The heels were as thin as, not as a pencil, but actually the mine of a pencil. Well, not really. I'm exaggerating a little here to emphasize the fact that these heels were outrageously, all-laws-of-physics-defyingly thin and absolutely inapplicable for any human, even professional catwalk models.

She flinched at my disapproval and made a defiant face. As fond as I have grown of my newest little sister and as much as we bond during the first phase of our training sessions, as much do we get on each other's nerves during the following ones, with a tendency of worsening towards the end. Just good we also both knew it was nothing personal.

Finally the clicking noise stopped and I received a dirty glare from my little sister.

"So what?! I'm short! I need to compensate!" she snapped. "That's pretty much the only thing you'll never be able to empathize with – being short that is." She huffed and scowled, but didn't raise her voice. She rarely ever did so, unless she was either singing aloud or calling out to someone. "Besides, they're only five inches." She added after a moment of silence, referring to the heels. `Only´ five inches alright.

"Bree," I interjected, trying to stay calm and collect. Not an easy task since her tension was only adding to my own. "You know perfectly well that it's not the shoes I'm complaining about."

"Course I know." She assured, growing calmer again. At this stage we'd have such bickering occurring on an almost regular basis for the main purpose of redirecting our attention from the blood on the table. Pitiful? Pathetic? Most definitely, yet it worked; somewhat, somehow.

Yet what else was there to do when the blood beckons you? During the first hours of each training session we would talk, having established a kind of one-for-one exchange policy regarding our life's stories. She'd tell me about her human life with her parents – amazing yet unexplained the fact that she still remembered everything perfectly – and I'd tell her about mine, mainly about Alice, because Alice is my life.

But these stories wear you down just as much. It's painful, mentally, to relive the past, whether the events were an inducer of sorrow by themselves or whether you suffer because those days are gone. For Bree it was more often than not the first of these options, but despite that she had a sort of ineffaceable – well, not really optimism – certainty that whatever happened she'd be able to see it through. A rather fatalistic attitude almost, but it worked fine so far, although looking at the course of her life one easily got the impression that she fought out a personal feud with the grim reaper – and always won, somewhat, for she even referred to these as Pyrrhic victories herself. I shall try to piece together the episodes she has told me so far.

Bree had always been a sickly child, prone to accidents as well as disease. She recounted a whole of seventeen broken bones, including from minor to major almost everything from toe over ribs to collar bone and shoulder blade, over the course of her first eight years, after which she had been diagnosed with leukemia. The following five years she had spent in hospitals between New York, Boston and Seattle. Chemotherapy didn't seem to help much nor was a suitable donor ever found, leading parents and doctors alike to the assumption that Bree would very likely not live to see her fourteenth birthday – until she made a full recovery and could be released just in time to celebrate her thirteenth at home. The following two years she claimed had been rather uneventful, only one broken arm and merely two nasty influenzas, but then misery struck again in the shape of her beloved father being run over by a drunk driver. Up until then it had amazed me how calmly Bree had spoken about her fate, but talking about her father's demise rendered her on the verge of crying, even though our kind cannot technically shed tears. Hence her proposition to hold a funeral for Alice. Though, as if fate wanted a big laugh out of it, after the funeral for her father their car was hit full force into the side, of course the one Bree had been sitting on, and sent her back into hospital and into a five-month coma. Miraculously enough she survived that too and was on her best way to recover when Victoria came along. About what happened to her then she was not ready to talk about yet.

For me these conversations were a kind of therapy that helped me a great deal coming to terms with what had happened. And today it had also led me to a conclusion. I would tell Esme and Carlisle as soon as they'd get back home.

"Hey, you're not breathing!" Bree suddenly scolded me. "That's cheating!" Darn, I got caught. Again. She is way too perceptive.

"Now I'll have to enforce the rules." She said gravely, but couldn't help a little grin that was tugging at the corners of her mouth, and carefully pushed the glass exactly three inches towards me. Great. Why did I ever agree to these rules in the first place? Because she asked me to with those pleading puppy eyes, that's why. My little sister can easily wrap everyone around her little finger. At least her hands were trembling like crazy when she touched the smooth glass surface.

"Don't make me do this again." She said with the expression of a martyr. I drew a few deep breaths and gripped the sides of my chair. My self-constraint, or what was still left of it, was fading unsettlingly fast, yet I was determined not to lose this round to my _newborn_ sister. It would be her fifth victory in a row then and she'd never let me live it down. So the staring continued. It was not before a whole of fourteen hours and twenty-seven minutes that Bree had to surrender for the day.

* * *

_Hey, hey, okay, so here's the next chapter. I'd like to point out that I was able to write down an estimated 86% of that because I received 1 review (hint, hint). Just think about how fast the updates could possibly come if you, yes YOU ALL, reviewed more! No kidding, feedback makes me write faster, it's scientifically proven. _

_Apart from that I hope you go on enjyoing this story, maybe my other stories too, and maybe even recommend it. Maybe you'd also like to make your vote count by answering the little poll question I have put up on my profile. In time there will even be a poll for this story. I'll let you know when. Until later, enjoy & comment!_


	7. Chapter 6

_Hello there folks! I know it's been a shamefully long time since I last updated, but the muses control me rather than I the and they had me start a whole bunch of other stories and at times left me alone altogether. I have been reading every single review though and they have made me very happy. One remarked that the format was a bit confusing, so now every passage of Bree is introduced with a_ °B°_ at the beginning while every Jasper passage starts off with_ °J°_. I hope that helps. Other than that I love reading your feedback, so keep it coming!_

_And now enjoy ;-)_

_

* * *

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_Chapter 6:_

_°B°_

Two more months until the wedding and things settled for about as good as one could ask for under the circumstances. Bella and I had established a kind of long distance friendship over the phone, yet it would remain that way until either she had been changed or I was old enough to be in control if my thirst. On that front there was no real progress as to yet. Though I hadn't slipped up to date it also got no easier to stay put. This discouraged me tremendously, especially since now I wanted to attend Edward and Bella's wedding more than ever and it didn't seem that I could manage in the time given.

Of course Bella's and my friendship was not without ulterior motives. She wanted to know what it's like to be a newborn. She worried a lot about it; then again she always worried an awful lot about everything. I did what I could to un-worry her by sharing my experiences, though I'm not really sure it helped. At least it gave me someone to simply talk about my issues with who wouldn't with every second breath assure me that it's all oh-so-well and getting better. Together we attempted to make a list with all the pros and cons of vampirism.

Pro – you'll never get sunburn ever again. Sun in Forks. Now that's a good one. Like New Zealand without wind.

Con – you'll never get a tan either. But were in Forks. Even for mortals … go figure … or have a look around.

Pro – superhuman strength, speed and heightened senses.

Con – in the sun you look like a bloody disco ball. I suggested sun block and once again received a whole lot of very odd stares. But hey, it worked in _Blade_, at least one could give it a try.

Pro – you'll look good despite the fact that you never sleep.

Con – no sleep, no dreams, though I suppose that's not really a pure con argument if you're prone to nightmares or sleeping difficulties.

Pro – being unbreakable. Pretty much. Poor Alice. Wretched Victoria.

Con – endless, tormenting thirst.

Pro – never getting sick again. No broken bones, itchy insect bites, allergic reactions or other unpleasantries of the like.

Con – you're stuck with your current hair cut, unless you decide to have it cut, then you're stuck with that. I hate how shallow that makes me sound.

Pro – possibly awesome superpowers.

Con – you can't cry.

Pro – you can't die …

Con - …because you are dead. That does put a damper on the whole thing, doesn't it?

Pro – you get to spend eternity with your soul mate – provided you have one.

Con – no chocolate or fizzy drinks or ice cream or pizza or what have you ever again. Though admittedly on the other hand these things don't hold so much appeal anymore. Still, the memory…guess I'm really the only one to have to worry about that though.

Ah, I suppose we could go on like this forever, but there were more pressing matters at hand right now, besides flower and seating arrangements that is.

"Wait a sec, Bella, there's another call coming in." I said before putting Bella on hold and taking the other call. As soon as the line connected I heard a most characteristic rhythm of breathing.

"Seth, don't tell me you're already bored again." He chuckled and replied: "Well, Baby Bat, don't you try and tell me you didn't miss me already."

"As much as I'd like to leave in that delusion, Clear Water Doggie, let it be widely known that I'm talking to Bella on the other line and as much as it pains me to shatter your bubble: you're only my second favorite phone pal. It's got to do with solidarity, you know?" I joked, once again finding it amazing how good of a relationship people can develop over the phone.

"Oww, Baby Bat, you really know how to hit home." He replied with mock misery.

"Get over it, Puppy Dog. Listen, I'll call you back as soon as I'm finished talking to Bella. Try to hold up until then and prepare to deliver all your accumulated troubles to an understanding friend. Do we have a deal?"

"Will it be long?" he begged to know.

"It will take as long as it takes and you are not half as miserable as your pitiful attempts are supposed to make you sound. Hear ya later!" I stated, and after another moment added: "When you get married I'll have all the time in the world reserved for you, my friend."

"Promise?"

"Promise!" With that I kicked him out of the line and resumed my conversation with Bella.

"Just Seth, where were we?"

"Actually I was just going to ask you something. It was just an idea I had recently, and it's really no problem if it doesn't work out, so please don't worry about that. I'll understand if you say you can't do it. It's just that it would mean a lot to me and Edward would be extremely happy as well. But in the end it's completely up to you, really." She did the fast talking thing again, the one when she was too wound up to catch her breath properly and a sensible person would worry about her oxygen levels.

"Bella, what exactly do you want?" I asked confusedly. With shaking voice she told me.

"Oh," I said, somewhat dumbstruck, "Oooh … ooh Dear."

"It's okay if you don't … I was too straightforward, wasn't I? I knew it was too much to ask. I'm sorry, Bree. Just forget it, okay?" she babbled, mistaking the sentiment behind my reaction completely.

"No, wait. Wait, Bella. Listen, I'm extremely, _extremely_, honored and happy you asked me. I just don't think I can make it in time. I mean it's only two more months and it's gotten no better since we started. I would love to do that, of course, but I don't want to put anyone into danger. They're your family and friends. I couldn't bear it if I harmed anyone."

"So?" she asked, a hint of hope evident in her voice.

"So I'll try harder than ever before. I shall try everything in my might, but don't count on my willpower to work. But I'll try, I promise you that I'll try."

* * *

°J°

The weather was rather appropriate for the occasion, though it was completely unfit. I'm sorry for not making sense. I'm still trying to make sense of all this myself, only it doesn't really work … at all. One would think such an inconspicuous factor as meteorological circumstances at a given place and point in time could serve to clear the mind a bit, or even just provide the right mood, a certain setting – no such luck. Let us therefore try to approach the issue from a more analytical angle at first. The day had begun cloudy, which in itself is nowhere near remarkable for the general area of Forks. The rather remarkable fact indeed was that up until now it hadn't rained. Instead a light but steady wind had picked up just before sunrise and didn't seem about to stop anytime soon. Hence the air was clear, if somewhat heavy with humidity. Temperatures had dropped a few degrees recently, prompting the mortal population to wear extra layers of clothing under their obligatory raincoats. I wouldn't even have noticed that particular effect if Bella to my left had not been shivering so miserably as we all, minus Bree who trusted her self-restraint even less than Edward, made our way through the forest and to the spot where we would lay my Alice to her final rest.

I chose this spot because she chose it first, once, long ago. When the two of us first came to Forks, settled with our family, trying to grow accustomed to them almost as much as to each other, we took a private walk one day. She led me to the old twin fir we would reach again in some minutes and the two of us climbed up to the spot where the two trunks separated. We sat there, talked and dreamed, and, although it's incredibly sappy and almost unbearably clichéd, etched our initials into the trees' bark, with surrounding heart and all. Now we would bury her beneath that tree she held so dear she made sure we returned to it at least once a year. What else was there? Where else? Sentimentality is equally as powerful as superstitions.

"Would you like to say a few words or shall I?" Carlisle asked hesitantly after Edward and Emmett had lowered her coffin into the previously dug hole. I stepped forward and inhaled deeply before speaking.

"Farewell my love, wherever you are I hope it's nice there. I don't suppose you'll get around to writing us a post card or so, but I hope you have found peace. We'll try our best to get along back here. Don't worry, I won't let anyone mess up your flower and seating arrangements for the wedding. And we'll all make sure Bella wears the dress you picked out for her. I love you. And I'm sorry. Bye."

I had to pause a few times in between, but now I fully understood what Bree meant when she said that funerals aren't meant for the deceased, they are for the ones who are left behind. I made a mental note to thank our little sister later for her advice. Bella behind me was crying quietly, and I heard the dry sobs Rose and Esme emitted. I also felt the sadness and sorrow from my family, but today I didn't have it in me to do anything about it. It washed over me like a heavy flood as I knelt down and took a fistful of damp earth that I let drop into Alice' grave. The others did the same and then Edward, Emmett and Carlisle closed the grave.

"Go if y'all want to. I'd like to stay just a moment longer." I heard myself say. The trouble with death is that you don't know how to deal with it. No matter which approach you may choose, nothing can truly comfort you. Pain can only be numbed, but not soothed. Some ways numb it better than others though. If a loved one dies it's as if a hole had been punched into the world and right through your heart – like a vast dark pit that is filled with nothingness.

* * *

°B°

I waved at the others through the large windows as they came back. Only Bella returned the gesture though, as she was ushered towards the garage by Edward. She had been crying very hard one could tell, but still bravely tried to give me a tiny smile. It struck me that Jasper wasn't with them. Carlisle waited until the Volvo was out of sight and Bella's scent no longer lingered in the air outside, only then did he open the door and my family entered the house.

"Is Jasper…" I hesitantly began to ask. "He needs some more time." Esme cut me off wistfully and turned away to hide her grief. I felt like an outsider then. At least they were all united in their sorrow whereas I not only hadn't even known the girl they had laid to her final rest today, I was also a part of the force that had brought upon her demise. Not deliberately, sure, but still – it felt like a poor exchange. The others didn't notice my turmoil – of course, the only two people who could have spotted it in my thought and in my heart were absent – my new family was too caught up in their own world of pain. Not willing to toil any longer I retired to my room, where I stayed for the next few hours, quarreling with my selfishness and their ignorance. I don't think they even noticed.

The sun was already fading when I returned downstairs. Esme was sitting in the recliner with a bunch of newspapers and magazines. Emmett watched a game of football, but was nowhere near as engaged as he normally was. Instead he drew Rose very close to him and let his cheek rest on top of her head. Carlisle had put a chair next to his wife, working through a pile of Medical Reviews, but eyeing her affectionately, gladly almost, ever so often.

"Is Jasper not back yet?" I asked into the relative quiet of the TV commentary and the faint rustling of pages being turned. No one answered, but Rose shook her head slightly.

"Is he still outside then?"

Nodding from Emmett.

"I'll go and fetch him." I said, grabbing a light grey coat and a blue shawl. I didn't need it of course, but if by any chance I should come across a mortal soul and manage to refrain from slaying them it would have looked very odd running through the forest clad in not much more than a rather flimsy summer dress in mid-fall. Though there shouldn't be any humans out at this hour and in this area. But you never know.

"Be careful, Baby." Esme called after me as I slipped outside.

I found him by the excruciating mental agony he emanated. It was a longing beyond words, passionate, desperate, all-consuming. It didn't show on his face though. It remained completely devoid of emotion. As so often one could only see his inner turmoil in his eyes. There was this thing he did with them – most likely unconsciously – that sometimes they held such intensity and depth that you found yourself swallowed, sucked in unremittingly, while at other times they formed a cold, hard, impenetrable wall that let nothing in and nothing out.

Jasper was actually kneeling in front of the fresh grave, as if his legs denied him service. His lips hadn't moved but I could swear he had been praying up until I stepped onto the clearing behind him.

"Hey there." I said softly for lack of a better opening line. This is where that eloquence thing comes back in. Oh well.

"I know it's getting late." He murmured, apologetically, as if he was at fault taking all the time he needed bidding farewell to the person he had loved the most.

"No need to excuse yourself. I was just worried." I tried to comfort him. What a helpless gesture. An even more helpless one was to follow suit: "It's not like we need to get to sleep, right?"

I could have slapped myself for the silly comment. Didn't I know that joking is not appreciated in this kind of situation? It was a self-defense mechanism. I couldn't help it. To my great relief Jasper smiled briefly and rose to his feet again after giving the grave a final pat.


End file.
